


Decades

by JackalopingIntoTheVoid



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen, Happy Memories, Hunt the Truth, discussion of child death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 13:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18032516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackalopingIntoTheVoid/pseuds/JackalopingIntoTheVoid
Summary: It's been 41 years.





	Decades

You do the same thing every year, you and your husband. Without your daughter, but that’s not a surprise now. She’s distant, though she’s no longer serving in the UNSC, and you both know it’s part of her PTSD. You just hope you’re still making yourselves as present as you can be without crowding her, that when she’s ready she won’t feel afraid of reaching out to you. You don’t know if it’s enough, but you trust your daughter and you trust her friends. She’s with good people and you know she’s loved.

But today is for your son.

Forty one years. Forty one years since he died, too young. Rapidly wasting away from an autoimmune disease they couldn’t find an effective treatment for in time. The memory is far off now, but you remember how confused he was. How many things he seemed to forget, or not understand anymore. How  _changed_  he was, in so little time, your baby’s bright mind ravaged until you could barely recognise him. He’d looked at you like he didn’t know you, when you first noticed something wrong, but he clung to you all the same when you hugged him. You did everything you could to comfort him through the months of tests and worsening symptoms. You hope it worked, that he wasn’t too scared in the end, in your arms. He wouldn’t take his eyes off yours in that final hour, not until the light was gone from them.

It was a terrible thing. A tragedy, the kind that happens every day but is unfathomable.

Your husband smiles, says “He’d be forty seven years old. Can you imagine?”

You can’t. It was so long ago, now, and all the photos and footage are of the child he used to be, energetic and sweet when he wasn’t playing too rough with the kids at school. He’ll always be that scruffy, grinning little boy to you– that’s the face you see when you think of him. He’d like to be remembered that way, you think. For all his sullen behaviour, he hated making people sad. He was a good boy.

You do what you do every year, and you play the old recording. Snuggled into your husband on your couch, you watch your little boy’s four-year-old face come to life in front of you.

You both laugh at his astonishment when he realises where you’ll be taking him, your own younger voices filled with delight as you tell him to get ready to leave. There’s a beaming smile on your face as you watch him running around the stalls and rides, meeting all the character actors and licking melting ice cream off his fingers. You can feel your husband chuckling next to you, just as you hear his boisterous laughter in the recording.

In the next recording, the sky is much darker, making the bright, coloured lights stand out much more. Music plays, uplifting and fun, as the Eridanus II Disneyland Parade goes past, celebrating the brand’s 560th anniversary.

Your son’s atop his Dad’s shoulders, waving a spinning, light-up toy in one hand. He screams in delight as the parade continues, bouncing up and down with his arms in the air, your husband’s strong grip the only thing keeping him up there. He was so excited to meet all his favourite characters, and he loves the music and the lights and the floats, and he looks down at you, behind the camera.

Your voice loudly asks if he’s having fun, and he nods so vigorously his head might come off. One of the really old, really classic characters sees your son and waves to him, and he  _gasps_  and waves back, screams “Elsa!!” at the top of his lungs.

It finishes with much quieter footage, on the way home, your little boy fast asleep in Dad’s lap. You and your husband are still smiling, and your voice whispers, “I am so glad we did this.”

The recordings come to an end, and you and your husband hold each other. You don’t have to look to know his smile matches yours, the excitement and happiness of that day taking hold. Forty three years later, and that golden day still holds such power over you both.

You tilt your head up to meet his eyes, and he kisses you, scratchy beard and all. Together, softly, still smiling, you wish your son a happy birthday.

* * *

Two weeks later, you find a broadcast. The journalist making it describes it as  “part docu-diary, part audio archive”, and you’re delighted to find it’s about the Master Chief. You call your husband over to listen together, and as usual he’s even more excited than you.

He’s from Eridanus II? You can’t believe it! He was born in Elysium City? Really? Your husband is just about jumping up and down, you could have actually met the Master Chief in his youth!

The journalist starts talking with a boxing instructor, and you frown at each other because boxing was illegal on the planet you built your lives on.

The journalist starts talking with Ellie Bloom, and you think your heart’s stopped beating.

You remember Ellie.

_“Wait– uh, what was this for again? This a military thing?”_

_“Oh, ha ha ha, no. No, John, uh, John is, uh, the Master Chief.”_

You can’t breathe.

* * *

(“He’s forty seven”, your husband sobs into your hair, weeks later, when you can’t ignore the ever-increasing proof, “John’s forty seven!”

You squeeze him tightly, anchor him as you always have. When you can, when the numbness wears off, he will help you through in turn.

For now, you hope the child that died in your arms was comforted by you, and you hope your son had a happy birthday.)


End file.
